©nine 


KATHERINE  M.  YATES 


On  the  Way  There 

A  wonder  tale  for  boys  and  girls,  both  little  and 
"grown  tall" 


Books  by  {Catherine  M.  Yates 

[  Board 

Cloth 

Leather 

GREY  STORY  BOOK—  Eight  stories  for  little 
folk,   each  demonstrating  the  true  sense  of 

65<fJ 

WHAT  THE  PINE  TREE  HEARD—  A  story 
of  a  little  girl  to  whom  came  the  light  
CHET  —  A  story  for  both  young  and  old  with 
a   very   practical   vein    of    Christian    Science 

65<!J 

$1.00J 

MARJORIE    AND    THE    DREAM    SERIES: 
eight  volumes  as  follows  — 
ON   THE  WAY  THERE—  A  wonder  tale  for 
boys  and  girls  both  little  and  grown  tall  —  . 
AT  THE  DOOR  —  Marjorie  finds  further  wis- 
dom  in   her  wanderings  and   discovers  "her 

65tfJ 
65tfJ 

THROUGH     THE    WOODS—  Wherein    Mar- 
jorie meets  her  "brothers"  and  a  number  of 

65#J 

BY    THE    ROADSIDE—  In    which    Marjorie 
learns    that    work    needs    love    and    thought 

65tfJ 

ALONG    THE    TRAIL—  In    which    Marjorie 
finds  that  everyone  does  not  hurry  past  the 
rough  places  in  the  trail  —  and  why  
UP    THE    SUNBEAMS—  In    which    Marjorie 
learns   how   to  see   folks  as  they  really  are, 

65<fJ 
65tfJ 

ON  THE  HILLTOP—  In  which  Marjorie  learns 
a  great  deal  about  one  particular  molehill  .  . 
IN   THE  VALLEY—  In  which  Marjorie  finds 
out  what  was  the  matter  in  the  valley,  —  and 

65<!J 
65tfJ 

THE  LORD'S  PRAYER  IN  DAILY  LIFE,  by 
V.  C.  Bath  —  It  is  possible  for  all  who  study 
the  Lord's  Prayer  with  its  import  and  uplift 
to   gain   some  knowledge   of   the   purity  and 
truth  of  the  teachings  of  Christ  Jesus.     In- 

$1.00J 

$1.50J 

Books  by  Minny  M.  H.  Ayers 

(Author    of  Hymn,   "Come  Walk  with   Love") 
WHAT  MANNER  OF  LOVE—  Simple  Songs 

$1.SOJ 

JESUS  THE  FRIEND  OF  MAN..  

35<;j 

SAMMY   SEEKS   SANTA  CLAUS  

35tfJ 

THREE  HAPPY   FAIRY  TALES: 
1.    The   Delightsome   Duchy  —  A  tale  of  the 

35tfJ 

2.    The  Fairy  of  the  Lady's  Slipper  —  A  tale 

35tfJ 

3.    The  Quest  of  the  Golden  Key—  A  tale  of 
the   power   of  love.     "And   now   abideth 
Faith,  Hope  and  Love;  these  three  .  .  ." 

35tfJ 

BIBLE  STORIES  RETOLD,  by  H.  W.  Hayes 
(See  C.  S.  Journal),  Washington,  D.  C  
THE  CHILD  ON  THE  JUDGMENT  SEAT, 
by  Elizabeth  Charles.     Printed  in  a  beautiful 
folder  style.     Cover  design,  The  Three  Wise 
Men.      Size,    734x5.      Mailing    envelope    in- 
cluded   

25<fJ 

$1.25J 

THE  SHERWOOD  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  CITY 


A  book  hath  more  of  the  reader  than  of  the 
writer  between  its  covers.  See  that  thou  dost 
find  good  within  thy  books. 


ON  THE  WAY  THERE 


A  WONDER  TALE  FOR  BOYS  AND 

GIRLS,  BOTH  LITTLE  AND 

"GROWN  TALL" 


Gy 

Katherine   M.  Yates 

Author  of  "What  the  Pine  Tree  Heard,"  "The  Grey 
Story  Book,"  etc. 


THE  SHERWOOD  PUBLISHING  GO. 

New  York,  N.  Y. 


COPYRIGHT,  1904 

BY 
KATHERINE  M.  YATES 


PREFACE 

An  allegory  may  tell  much  or  little,  according 
as  the  reader  reads  between  the  lines  or  sees 
only  the  printed  page.  The  story  is  but  the 
symbol  of  a  greater  truth  lying  behind  and  in- 
spiring it,  just  as  man,  as  we  seem  to  see  him, 
is  but  the  imperfect  symbol  of  the  perfect  man 
which  is,  the  only  man,  the  man  which  we 
should  learn  to  recognize  despite  the  appear- 
ance which  he  seems  to  show  to  us. 

The  loyal  Christian  Scientist  "reads  between 
the  lines"  whichever  way  he  turns;  for  his  won- 
derful text-book,  Science  and  Health  with  Key  to 
the  Scriptures,  by  Mary  Baker  G.  Eddy,  is  a  key 
to  the  understanding  of  all  which  comes  into 
his  consciousness;  and  with  this  joyous  com 
prehension  of  "a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth" 
comes  a  heartfelt  love  and  gratitude  of  which 
there  are  no  words  to  tell. 

The  little  story  of  what  Marjorie  saw  "On 
the  Way  There, "  is  for  big  or  little  folks,  ac- 
cording as  he  who  reads  it,  finds  it  worth  while, 
in  the  best  sense  of  the  phrase. 

KATHERINE  M.  YATES. 


2073633 


FOREWORD 

The  little  books  of  the  "Marjorie  and  the 
Dream"  series  are  not  written  primarily  for 
children  in  years;  but  are  for  the  little  girl  or 
boy  within,  who  never  has  grown  up,  and 
never  will  grow  up.  Those  who  would  find 
the  kernel  of  these  bits  of  allegory,  have  but 
to  know  that  Marjorie  is  this  ever-young 
child  within;  and  the  Dream  is  the  prosecut- 
ing attorney,  self-analysis,  who  asks  us  ques- 
tions— questions  which  we  all  must  answer 
either  now  or  sometime  in  the  years  to  come. 

K.  M.  Y. 

Honolulu,  1919. 


ON  THE  WAY  THERE 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  are  good  for,  anyway," 
said  Marjorie,  crossly.  "It's  queer  that  I  can't 
go  to  bed  and  to  sleep  quietly,  without  a  horrid 
old  Dream  like  you  coming  to  bother  me." 

The  Dream  balanced  himself  on  the  foot- 
board and  cracked  his  heels  together  saucily. 
He  was  little  and  thin  and  brown ;  and  he  wore 
a  tight  fitting  brown  velvet  suit,  and  very 
pointed  little  brown  velvet  slippers,  and  a  little 
brown  velvet  cap  perched  jauntily  on  one  side 
of  his  head. 

"Well,"  he  said,  grinning  in  a  most  aggravat- 
ing manner,  "what  is  it  that  you  don't  like 
about  me?  Didn't  I  just  let  yooi  walk  along 
the  ridge-pole  of  the  house  ?  Even  your  mother 
never  lets  you  do  that." 

"Yes,  and  when  I  got  to  the  edge  of  the  roof 
you  pushed  me  off,  and  I  kept  falling,  and 
falling — why,  I'd  be  falling  yet  if  I  hadn't 
wakened  up." 

The  Dream  giggled.  He  had  a  very  un- 
pleasant way  of  giggling  when  things  were  not 
at  all  funny. 


8  On  the  Way  There 

Marjorie  went  on.  "It  wouldn't  be  so  bad 
if  you  would  take  me  to  places  where  I  really 
want  to  go,  and  let  me  see  really  interesting 
things;  but  you  never  let  me  have  anything  to 
say  about  it.  You  just  take  me  anywhere  that 
you  have  a  notion  to,  and  you  don't  care  in  the 
least  whether  I  like  it  or  not." 

"You  think  that  you  could  plan  your  trips 
better,  yourself,  do  you?'*  asked  the  Dream. 

"Of  course  I  could,"  said  Marjorie.  "You 
don't  know  where  I  want  to  go,  and  I 
do." 

"Well,  where  do  you  want  to  go  to-night?" 
asked  the  Dream. 

"Nowhere,"  said  Marjorie.  "I  want  to  be 
let  alone  to-night." 

"All  right,"  said  the  Dream,  "we'll  go  there, 
then." 

"Where?"  asked  Marjorie,  in  surprise. 

"To  Nowhere,  of  course,"  said  the  Dream. 
"That's  where  you  said  you  wanted  to  go,  isn't 
it?" 

"Yes,  but — "  began  Marjorie. 

"Then  what  are  you  waiting  for?"  asked  the 
Dream. 

"Well,  I — I  guess  I  don't  want  to  go  there, 


On  the  Way  There  9 

after  all,"  said  Marjorie,  looking  somewhat 
worried. 

"  I  guess  you  don't  know  where  you  do  want 
to  go,"  sniffed  the  Dream,  contemptuously. 

Marjorie  hesitated.  "I'll  tell  you  what!" 
she  exclaimed,  suddenly,  "  take  me  to  the  very 
nicest  place  that  you  know  of,  will  you?" 

"Sure,"  agreed  the  Dream,  cheerfully,  "only 
the  way  there  isn't  so  very  nice." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  that,"  said  Marjorie,  "if 
it's  only  nice  when  I  get  there." 

"Look  out  for  that  mud -puddle!"  exclaimed 
the  Dream. 

Marjorie  stepped  over  the  mud-puddle  very 
carefully.  "It's  bad  walking,"  she  said,  look- 
ing about  her. 

They  were  making  their  way  through  some 
very  low  and  swampy  ground,  and  there  was 
mud  and  water  upon  every  side,  much  of  it 
hidden  by  a  growth  of  long,  rank  grass,  which 
looked  particularly  green  and  coarse.  There 
seemed  to  be  a  great  many  other  children  going 
along  the  same  way,  and  Marjorie  looked  at 
them  curiously.  Some  appeared  to  be  intel- 
ligent and  well  dressed,  and  others  stupid  and 
poorly  clad;  but  all  showed,  upon  their  features 


io  On  the  Way  There 

and  clothing,  spots  of  mud  and  dirt  from  the 
marsh  through  which  they  were  passing. 

"Do  we  have  to  go  far  in  this  swamp?" 
asked  Marjorie. 

The  Dream  pointed  to  where,  a  long,  long 
way  ahead,  they  could  see  roofs  and  spires  shin- 
ing in  the  distance,  surrounded  by  groves  of 
trees. 

"It  seems  a  pretty  long  way,"  said  Marjorie. 
turning  from  the  sight  to  look  about  her  once 
more.  The  swamp  stretched  away  as  far  as 
she  could  see  upon  one  hand,  and  upon  the  other 
was  a  high,  thick  hedge.  Here  and  there,  about 
the  marsh,  were  scattered  little  islands  which 
were  fairly  dry  and  sported  a  few  trees  and 
bushes;  and  upon  each  of  these  knolls  was  a 
crowd  of  children,  still  soiled  and  grimy  from 
plodding  through  the  mud,  but  laughing  and 
singing  and  playing  games  in  the  gayest  and 
noisiest  manner. 

"Let's  go  and  watch  them,"  said  Marjorie, 
pointing  to  a  near-by  island. 

"All  right,"  agreed  the  Dream,  "only  you 
won't  get  to  the  nice  place  so  quickly." 

"I  don't  mind,"  said  Marjorie.  "I'd  like  to 
see  what  they  are  doing." 


On  the  Way  There  n 

As  the  two  drew  near,  they  saw  that  the 
children  were  not  having  such  a  very  good  time, 
after  all;  for,  scattered  thickly  about  among 
them,  were  a  lot  of  unpleasant  looking  little 
dwarfs  about  ten  inches  high,  and  with  very 
ugly  faces.  The  dwarfs  did  not  seem  to  have 
any  games  of  their  own ;  but  merely  spent  their 
time  hanging  on  to  the  arms  or  perched  upon 
the  shoulders  of  the  children  as  they  played, 
and  appeared  to  be  annoying  them  in  every 
way  possible.  The  children  did  not  pay  much 
attention  to  them,  though  they  really  almost 
spoiled  the  fun,  being  such  a  weight  and  hin- 
drance; and  besides,  every  once  in  a  while,  one 
of  the  dwarfs  would  bite  or  kick  the  child  to 
whose  arm  it  was  clinging,  or  begin  to  fight 
with  others  of  its  own  kind. 

Marjorie  glanced  about  and  noticed  now, 
that  nearly  all  of  the  children  who  were  plod- 
ding through  the  swamp,  carried  one  or  two,  or 
sometimes  even  more,  of  these  ugly  little  fel- 

t 

lows;  so  that,  in  some  cases,  they  were  so 
hampered  that  they  could  scarcely  step.  It 
seemed  as  if  the  dwarfs  could  not  walk  alone; 
but  when  a  child  would  shake  one  off,  which 
was  not  very  often,  for  they  clung  most  ob- 


12  On  the  Way  There 

stinately;  it  would  crouch  down  in  the  long 
grass,  out  of  sight;  and  then,  when  some  other 
child  would  pass  along,  it  would  spring  out  and 
catch  her  hand,  almost  before  she  knew  it;  and 
then  it  was  very  hard  indeed  to  shake  it  off. 

Marjorie  was  about  to  ask  the  Dream  con- 
cerning these  queer  little  fellows,  when  she 
noticed  a  little  girl  who  was  just  stepping  up 
on  to  the  island.  She  was  the  very  prettiest 
child  that  Marjorie  had  ever  seen,  and  her  hair 
was  much  longer  than  Marjorie's,  and  of  a 
brighter  brown.  Just  as  Marjorie  observed  this, 
one  of  the  little  dwarfs  sprang  up  from  the 
ground  at  her  own  feet,  and  caught  hold  of  her 
arm. 

For  a  moment  she  scarcely  noticed  him.,  so 
intent  was  she  upon  getting  nearer  to  the 
lovely  little  girl;  but,  presently,  as  a  slight 
breeze  tossed  the  bright  hair  so  that  it  looked 
as  if  it  were  full  of  sun-beams,  the  dwarf  set  his 
teeth  in  one  of  her  fingers  and  bit  it  quite 
hard. 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  trying  to  shake 
him  off.  "You  ugly  little  thing!  What  did 
you  do  that  for?" 

The  dwarf  made  no  answer,  but  the  Dream 


On  the  Way  There  13 

giggled  his  unpleasant  little  giggle.  Marjorie 
turned  upon  him  angrily. 

"What  made  you  bring  me  to  such  a  horrid 
place?"  she  exclaimed,  "and  what  makes  these 
abominable  dwarfs  act  this  way?  Why  don't 
you  help  me  get  it  off  ?"  and  she  tried  in  vain  to 
shake  the  little  fellow  from  her  arm. 

"I  can't  take  it  off  for  you,"  said  the  Dream. 
"You'll  have  to  get  rid  of  it  for  yourself." 

"But  what  is  it?"  cried  Marjorie,  "and  what 
does  it  hold  on  to  me  for,  and  bite  me,  too?" 

"It  holds  on  to  you  because  it  can't  get 
around  by  itself.  It  has  to  attach  itself  to 
somebody.  It  has  no  power  of  its  own." 

"But  what  is  it?"  repeated  Marjorie. 

"It's  an  Error,"  said  the  Dream,  looking  at 
her  with  a  broad  grin. 

"An  Error!"  echoed  Marjorie,  in  surprise. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Dream,  "that's  what  it  is." 

"And  are  all  of  those  Errors?"  asked  Mar- 
jorie, pointing  to  the  multitude  of  little  dwarfs 
scattered  about  among  the  children. 

"Yes,"  said  the  Dream. 

"But  they  are  not  all  alike,"  said  Marjorie. 
"Some  are  larger  than  others,  and  some  are 
uglier." 


14  On  the  Way  There 

"Why,  of  course  they  are  not  all  alike,"  said 
the  Dream.  "They  only  belong  to  the  same 
family.  They  have  any  number  of  different 
names." 

"Have  they, really?"  asked  Marjorie,  growing 
interested.  "Well,  what  is  the  name  of  this 
one?"  and  she  held  up  her  arm  to  which  the 
ugly  little  fellow  was  still  clinging. 

"Don't  you  know?"  asked  the  Dream,  with 
a  funny  grin. 

"Of  course  I  don't,  how  should  I?"  cried 
Marjorie,  impatiently. 

"Well,"   said  the   Dream,  slowly,  and  still 
grinning,  "his  name  is  Envy." 
"Oh-h-h!"  said  Marjorie. 
"Yes,"  said  the  Dream,  nodding  his  head 
several  times,  "that  is  his  name.     Do  you  like 
him?" 

"No,"   said   Marjorie,   "I   don't.     But  how 
did  he  happen  to  catch  hold  of  me  just  then?" 
The  Dream  glanced  toward  the  very  pretty 
little  girl,  and  Marjorie  followed  his  gaze. 

"Oh-h-h!"  she  said  again,  her  face  flushing. 
Just  then  the  wind  fluttered  the  bright  hair 
once  more  and  the  dwarf  bit  her  sharply  upon 
the  hand. 


On  the  Way  There  15 

Marjorie  stood  silently  for  some  minutes  and 
then  she  began  anew  to  try  to  dislodge  the 
little  pest;  but  she  could  not  pull  him  off  nor 
shake  him  off,  and  at  last  she  gave  up  in  de- 
spair. "Can't  you  really  help  me?"  she  asked 
the  Dream,  pleadingly. 

The  Dream  shook  his  head.  "No,"  he  said; 
"you  may  be  able  to  shake  him  off  if  you  shake 
hard  enough,  but  it  will  hurt  you.  Or,"  he 
added,  consolingly,  "he  may  drop  off,  of  him- 
self, in  time,  though  he  isn't  likely  to," 

Marjorie  looked  about  her  miserably;  and 
just  then  she  noticed  that  the  little  girl  with 
the  bright  hair,  was  surrounded  by  a  whole 
swarm  of  the  little  dwarfs,  all  bent  upon  making 
her  as  wretched  as  possible.  As  Marjorie  saw 
and  half  started  forward,  as  if  to  go  to  the  res- 
cue, the  dwarf  which  had  been  holding  her  own 
arm,  suddenly  dropped  off  and  hid  in  the  grass 
at  her  feet. 

"There!"  she  exclaimed,  delightedly,  " He's 
gone!  How  glad  I  am!" 

The  Dream  looked  amused.  "  Of  course  you 
are,"  he  said,  grinning,  "but  you  are  probably 
not  thinking  of  the  hundreds  of  his  brothers  of 

the  same  name,  who  are  hiding  in  the  tall  grass 
2 


1 6  On  the  Way  There 

all  about  you;  and  this  one  is  just  waiting  for 
some  other  child  to  happen  along." 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Marjorie,  "what  shall  I 
do?" 

"There's  just  one  way  to  get  entirely  rid  of 
these  fellows,"  said  the  Dream. 

"And  what  is  it?"  asked  Marjorie,  eagerly. 

"Wait  a  while,"  said  the  Dream.  "Perhaps 
you'll  find  it  out  for  yourself.  Shall  we  go  on 
now?" 

"Yes,"  said  Marjorie,  and  they  started  on, 
plodding  through  the  mud  and  long,  tangled 
grass,  and  going  out  of  their  way  to  avoid  great 
black-looking  pools,  or  clumps  of  tall  rushes 
and  other  water-plants.  Many  times  Marjorie 
stumbled,  and  sometimes  even  fell  over  logs 
or  stones  lying  buried  in  the  soft  mud  and 
ooze. 

At  last  she  stopped  short  in  desperation,  and 
turned  upon  the  Dream.  "You  abominable 
Dream!"  she  cried.  "What  on  earth  did  you 
bring  me  here  for?" 

Just  at  that  moment  a  particularly  ugly  little 
dwarf  sprang  out  of  a  clump  of  rushes  and 
alighted  on  her  shoulder. 

Marjorie  started,  with  an  exclamation  of  dis< 


On  the  Way  There  17 

gust,  and  tried  to  shake  him  off.  The  Dream 
chuckled. 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  Marjorie.     "What  is  it?" 

"Anger,"  said  the  Dream,  grinning. 

"Well,  I  don't  care,"  sobbed  Marjorie;  "it 
is  dreadful  here,  and  I  know  I  shall  never  get 
through  this  awful  swamp." 

Here  another  dwarf  sprang  out  and  landed 
beside  the  first. 

"Discouragement,"  remarked  the  Dream. 

Marjorie  began  to  look  frightened.  "Why, 
what  shall  I  do — "  she  began,  glancing  hurriedly 
about  for  a  way  of  escape,  and  instantly  up 
sprang  another  little  fellow  and  took  possession 
of  the  other  shoulder, 

"Fear,"  chanted  the  Dream,  monotonously, 
as  if  he  were  repeating  a  roll-call. 

"Oh,  dear,  I  can't  bear  it!"  cried  Marjorie, 
trying  to  fight  them  off.  "And  they  bite  so! 
Oh,  what  shall  I  do?" 

"Pain,"  called  the  Dream,  as  a  fourth  little 
fellow  clutched  one  of  her  arms. 

The  Dream's  dry,  teasing  little  voice  was 
most  aggravating  to  Marjorie's  suffering,  and 
she  turned  upon  him  in  a  perfect  passion  of 
anger.  "I'll  get  even  with  you!"  she  cried,. 


1 8  On  the  Way  There 

"I  hate  you.  I  didn't  want  to  come  with  you, 
anyway,  and  you  know  it!" 

Here  three  more  of  the  ugly  little  fellows 
threw  themselves  upon  her,  while  the  Dream 
called  out,  in  his  monotonous  tones:  "Revenge, 
Hatred,  Falsehood." 

Poor  Marjorie  was  nearly  overwhelmed.  She 
could  scarcely  take  a  step,  and  the  dwarfs  kept 
fighting  among  themselves,  and  now  and  then 
biting  her  viciously. 

"Oh,  dear,"  she  cried,  "what  shall  I  do? 
What  shall  I  do?" 

Just  then  she  became  conscious  of  a  sweet, 
earnest  voice  calling  to  her.  In  fact,  she  sud- 
denly remembered  that  she  had  been  hearing 
the  voice  for  a  long  time;  but  she  had  been  too 
much  occupied  with  her  own  interests  and 
troubles  to  pay  any  attention  to  it.  Now  she 
listened. 

"Little  girl,  little  girl,"  it  called,  "don't  be 
afraid!  God  is  taking  care  of  you." 

Marjorie  looked  all  about.  At  first  she  could 
see  no  one  to  whom  the  voice  could  belong;  but 
presently  she  turned  toward  the  tall  hedge ;  and 
there,  above  its  top,  she  saw,  peering  through 
the  branches,  the  sweet  face  of  a  woman. 


On  the  Way  There  19 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  called  the  loving  voice 
again.  "Nothing  can  hurt  you.  Just  come 
through  the  hedge.  There  is  a  fine,  dry  high- 
way here,  which  leads  clear  across  the  swamp  to 
the  beautiful  city  where  you  wish  to  go. " 

Marjorie  hesitated  and  looked  around  over 
the  great,  dismal  morass  where  she  stood.  She 
noticed  now,  that  there  were  many  painted 
signs  sticking  up  out  of  the  mud  all  about, 
Just  in  front  of  her  lay  a  broad  pool  of  dingy 
water,  at  the  side  of  which  stood  one  of  the 
signs,  which  read:  "DANGER!  The  Pool  of  111 
Health."  A  little  farther  on  was  another, 
marked:  "BEWARE!  Pool  of  Accidents;"  and 
one  of  the  small  islands  near  by  was  marked: 
"The  Island  of  Bad  Company;"  and  just  to  one 
side  was  a  pool  marked:  "DANGER!  Pool  of 
Death."  It  seemed  as  if  she  were  so  surrounded 
by  dangers  that  she  could  not  hope  to  get 
through  them  alive;  and  meanwhile,  the  little 
dwarfs  were  weighing  her  down,  as  well  as  tor- 
menting her  almost  beyond  endurance. 

Marjorie  looked  back  at  the  bright,  loving 
face  above  the  hedge.  "How  do  I  know 
that  there  is  a  high-road  there?"  she  asked 
doubtfully. 


2o  On  the  Way  There 

"Come  closer  and  see,"  said  the  woman;  and 
Marjorie,  with  her  heavy  load  of  Errors,  stag- 
gered nearer  until  she  could  look  between  the 
leaves  and  branches  of  the  hedge;  and  there, 
sure  enough,  she  saw  an  embankment  with  a 
smooth  road  running  along  the  top  of  it,  upon 
which  were  passing  many  happy-faced  children. 

"Children,"  she  called,  "is  that  truly  a 
smooth,  dry  road?  and  does  it  really  lead  to  the 
beautiful  city  where  I  am  trying  to  go  ? " 

"Yes,"  called  the  children;  "yes,  it  does. 
Come  up  out  of  the  mud. ' ' 

Marjorie  turned  again  toward  the  sweet, 
smiling  face  which  she  had  first  seen,  and 
took  a  step  forward.  Then  she  stopped.  "It 
isn't  any  use!"  she  cried,  woefully.  "These 
dreadful  dwarfs !  They  won't  let  me  come !  I 
can  never  get  through  the  hedge  and  up  the 
bank  with  them." 

"No,  you  cannot,"  said  the  woman,  gently; 
"but  you  do  not  wish  to,  do  you?  You  do  r.ot 
wish  to  take  them  with  you?" 

"No,  no!"  cried  Marjorie;  "but  I  can't  get 
rid  of  them.  I've  tried  and  tried. ' ' 

' '  You  have  not  tried  in  the  right  way,  Dear, ' ' 
said  the  woman,  earnestly.  *'Do  you  know 
what  they  are?" 


On  the  Way  There  21 

"Yes,  they  are  Errors,"  said  Marjorie,  sor- 
rowfully. 

"Do  you  know  what  they  are  made  of?" 
asked  the  woman. 

"No,"  said  Marjorie. 

' '  Of  just  the  same  stuff  as  the  Dream, ' '  said 
her  friend,  smiling. 

"What!"  exclaimed  Marjorie,  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"Just  the  same,"  said  the  woman,  nodding 
and  smiling  again. 

"But — but — the  Dream  isn't  really  any- 
thing," said  Marjorie. 

"No,  and  neither  are  the  Errors,"  said  the 
woman.  "They  are  no  more  real  than  you 
let  them  be,  by  believing  in  them. ' ' 

"Oh-h-h-h,"  said  Marjorie.  "But  how 
shall  I  get  rid  of  them,  then?" 

"Only  by  knowing  that  they  are  not  any- 
thing. Just  hold  one  up  to  the  light  and  look 
through  it." 

Marjorie  did  so.  At  first  it  looked  pretty 
solid;  but  as  she  kept  on  looking,  she  could  see 
that  it  appeared  to  be  only  a  sort  of  a  misty  and 
dusty  shape,  and  here  and  there  she  could  see 
the  light  through  it;  and  the  longer  she  looked, 


22  On  the  Way  There 

the  mistier  it  grew,  until  at  last  there  was  noth- 
ing but  a  little  wavering,  smoky  column,  which 
faded  away  into  the  air  as  she  gazed. 

"Oh,  how  strange!"  cried  Marjorie,  delight- 
edly. ' '  Now  I  know  that  they  really  are  not 
anything.  I  can  see  it  plainly.  How  glad  I 
am ! ' '  and  she  tried  to  shake  the  rest  of  them  off. 
However,  to  her  surprise,  they  clung  as  tightly 
as  ever. 

The  woman  smiled.  "What  are  you  trying 
to  do?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  I'm  trying  to  shake  them  off,  because 
they're  not  anything. ' ' 

' '  If  they  are  not  anything,  how  can  you  shake 
them  off?"  asked  her  friend.  "You  are  mak- 
ing them  seem  to  be  something  when  you  try 
to  shake  them  off. ' ' 

"  Oh! "  said  Marjorie.  "Then  what  must  I  do?" 

' '  See  through  them, ' '  said  the  woman,  con- 
fidently. 

"But  I  can't  see  through  them  all  at  once, 
they  squirm  so,"  said  Marjorie,  "and  I'm  in  a 
hurry. ' ' 

Her  friend  smiled  again.  "You  must  not 
try  to  do  too  much  at  once,"  she  said,  gently, 
"or  you  may  not  do  it  thoroughly.  If  you 
leave  even  a  whiff  of  the  little  last  column  of 


On  the  Way  There  23 

mist,  as  soon  as  your  back  is  turned,  it  will  seem 
to  get  solid  once  more." 

"And  if  I  get  rid  of  them  this  way,  won't  they 
ever  attack  any  one  any  more?" 

"No,  they  are  blown  out  like  the  flame  of  a 
candle,  and  can  never  come  back.  Of  course 
there  are  ever  so  many  of  their  brothers,  bear- 
ing the  same  names,  left;  but  there  will  never 
be  so  many  again,  when  you  have  disposed  of 
these ;  and  if  every  one  did  it,  there  would  soon 
be  no  Errors  left  at  all." 

"Oh,  why  don't  they?"  cried  Marjorie. 
"Well,  I'm  going  to  do  my  part,  anyway." 

And  so  she  went  to  work,  very  carefully,  to 
see  through  every  one  of  the  Errors  that  had 
attacked  her;  and  even  sooner  than  she  had 
expected,  they  seemed  all  gone,  and  she  and  the 
Dream  crept  through  the  hedge  to  the  side 
where  lay  the  high-road. 

As  she  stood  up  straight,  beyond  the  hedge, 
Marjorie  stretched  her  arms  in  delight  at  her 
freedom.  "Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  be  rid  of  them!" 
she  cried.  "I  think  that  I  did  finely  to  manage 
it  so  quickly,  don't  you?" 

Just  here  the  Dream  giggled,  and  Marjorie 
felt  a  sharp  nip  on  the  back  of  her  neck. 


24  On  the  Way  There 

"Oh,  what  is  it?"  she  cried,  reaching  back 
to  knock  it  off. 

"Self-conceit,"  called  the  Dream,  in  a  teasing 
voice. 

Marjorie's  face  flushed.  "And  I  never  even 
knew  it  was  there!"  she  exclaimed. 

"I  did,"  said  the  Dream;  "I've  been  watch- 
ing it  for  a  long  time." 

"Well,  it's  hour  has  come  now,  anyway," 
said  Marjorie,  taking  a  firmer  grasp  upon  the 
small  torment,  and,  after  a  short  tussle,  breaking 
its  grip  and  holding  it  up  to  the  light.  "You 
little  no-account  nothing!"  she  said,  laughing 
and  shaking  the  little  monster ;  and  then,  with 
a  puff  of  her  breath,  blowing  the  last  tiny, 
smoky  column  that  remained,  away  into  the  air. 
"Are  there  any  more  on  me?"  she  asked,  turning 
around  to  show  her  back,  just  as  one  asks  if 
there  are  burrs  sticking  to  one's  dress. 

"No,"  laughed  the  woman,  holding  out  her 
hand;  "now  come  up  where  it  is  high  and 
dry." 

The  bank  was  somewhat  steep;  but,  with  the 
help  of  the  gentle  hand,  she  soon  stood  upon 
the  broad,  white  road,  beside  her  new  friend. ' ' 

"Oh,  how  good!"  she  cried,  drawing  a  deep 


On  the  Way  There  25 

breath.  "Why  don't  everybody  come  up  here? 
There  is  room  for  all. ' ' 

The  woman  shook  her  head,  sadly.  ' '  They 
do  not  believe  me  when  I  tell  them  that  the 
road  is  here, ' '  she  said. 

"But  if  they  would  come  and  look,  they 
could  see  for  themselves, ' '  said  Marjorie. 

"Yes,"  said  her  friend,  "but  they  are  too 
busy,  plodding  along  in  the  mud,  and  dancing 
on  the  islands,  and  fighting  with  the  dwarfs. 
They  do  not  wish  to  take  the  trouble  to  look. ' ' 

As  the  three  walked  along  the  road,  they 
could  see,  through  the  thin  top  of  the  hedge, 
much  that  was  going  on  in  the  swamp;  and 
again  and  again  the  loving  woman  stopped  to 
call  to  some  one  who  had  fallen  into  one  of  the 
pools  of  111  Health  or  Sorrow,  or  was  being  tor- 
mented by  the  dwarfs.  Sometimes  those  called 
to,  would  pay  no  attention  at  all,  or  would  argue 
that  there  was  no  road  there,  and  would  even 
laugh,  jeeringly.  Others  would  listen,  and  ask 
questions,  but  make  no  effort;  but  some  would 
follow  the  directions  of  the  sweet,  earnest  voice, 
see  through  the  Errors,  and  come  creeping 
through  the  hedge  to  the  high-road. 

Once  a  crowd  of  childien,  who  chanced  to 


26  On  the  Way  There 

look  up  and  see  the  woman  helping  one  of 
their  number  on  to  the  road,  grew  angry,  and  a 
shower  of  stones  came  flying  from  their  direc- 
tion; but  the  stones  all  fell  short  of  their  mark, 
and  the  Errors  soon  swarmed  about  so  thickly 
as  to  put  a  stop  to  the  throwing. 

' '  Why  did  they  throw  stones  at  you  ? ' '  asked 
Marjorie,  her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

Her  friend  looked  back  at  the  angry  group, 
compassionately,  "They  did  not  do  it,"  she 
said.  ' '  The  Errors  did  it. ' ' 

"Why,"  cried  Marjorie,  "it  looked  as  if  the 
children  began  it,  and  then  as  if  the  Errors 
crowded  in  and  stopped  them;  but  there  were 
so  many  Errors  around  them  all  the  time,  that 
I  couldn't  be  very  sure. ' ' 

' '  The  Errors  did  stop  the  throwing,  but  they 
began  it,  too.  Errors  always  get  to  fighting 
among  themselves,  and  destroy  everything  that 
they  try  to  do.  They  are  nothing,  and  they  can 
do  nothing." 

And  so  Marjorie  and  the  Dream  and  the  loving 
woman  walked  on,  along  the  high-road,  and  more 
and  more  happy  children  joined  them  on  the  way. 

' '  Who  built  the  beautiful  city  in  front  of  us  ? " 
asked  Marjorie,  as  they  drew  near  its  gates. 


On  the  Way  There  27 

"The  King,"  said  the  woman,  reverently. 

' '  And  who  built  the  high-road  ? ' '  asked  Mar- 
jorie. 

' '  A  very  great  and  good  man  who  knew  how 
hard  it  is  to  cross  the  swamp.  He  spent  his 
whole  life  and  all  that  he  had,  planning  and 
building  this  wonderful  roadway,  and  made  it 
free  for  every  one  to  use.  He  did  it  a  long, 
long  time  ago,"  added  the  woman,  glancing 
down,  lovingly,  at  the  smooth,  white  road. 

"But  why  doesn't  every  one  know  about  it? 
Has  it  always  been  used  ? ' ' 

The  woman  shook  her  head.  "No,  people 
forgot  that  it  was  here,  for  a  long  time.  Some 
never  knew  about  it,  and  some  began  going 
through  the  swamp  again  just  for  the  excite- 
ment of  fighting  the  dwarfs,  and  wading  in  the 
muddy  pools,  and  playing  on  the  islands;  and  the 
hedge  grew  up  between,  and  it  was  lost  sight  of 
and  no  one  knew  where  it  was.  We  are  break- 
ing down  the  hedge  now,  though,"  she  added, 
happily.  "See,  each  of  us  breaks  off  a  branch 
wherever  he  can,  and  it  is  growing  thinner  and 
thinner,  and  by-and-by  it  will  be  all  broken 
down  and  then  every  one  can  see  the  high-road 
and  will  come  up  out  of  the  swamp. ' '  The 


28  On  the  Way  There 

woman's  face  was  very  beautiful  as  she  said 
this. 

' '  And  did  you  find  the  road  when  it  was  lost  ? ' ' 
asked  Marjorie. 

"Yes." 

"But  how  did  you  happen  to?"  Marjorie 's 
eyes  were  eager. 

' ' It  was  this  way, ' '  said  the  woman  earnestly: 
"I  knew  that  there  used  to  be  such  a  road, 
and  so  I  knew  that  it  must  be  somewhere,  still. 
I  had  read  about  it  in  a  book  that  I  knew  told 
the  truth,  and,  too,  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  it 
was  so;  and  so  I  began  to  search,  and  search, 
and  study  the  book,  and  search  again — and  at 
last  I  found  it — and  oh,  I  was  so  glad!  So  many 
children  were  struggling  out  there  in  the 
swamp,  who  were  sure  that  there  was  a  road, 
and  who  wanted,  so  much,  to  know  where  it 
was. ' ' 

"And  ever  since  then,  you  have  been  telling 
people,  and  helping  them?" 

"Yes,"  said  her  friend;  ever  since." 

Marjorie  patted  her  hand  softly.  "And  did 
you  show  every  one  of  all  these,  the  way?" 

"Yes." 

' '  And  don't  you  ever  get  tired  ? ' ' 


On  the  Way  There  29 

The  woman  let  her  eyes  sweep  up  and  down 
the  lines  of  many,  many  happy  children,  troop- 
ing along  the  road.  ' '  Should  you  think  that  I 
would  ever  get  tired? ' '  she  asked,  smilingly. 

"No!"  cried  Marjorie,  eagerly.     ''No,  no!" 

Here  her  friend  stopped  to  help  another  child 
who  was  calling  to  her  from  over  the  hedge,  and 
Marjorie  and  the  Dream  walked  slowly  on. 

Marjorie  looked  out  over  the  wide,  dreary 
swamp,  and  then  up  at  the  beautiful  city.  ' '  Oh," 
she  said  at  last,  with  a  great  sigh,  "I'm  so 
thankful!" 

"Thankful  for  what?"  said  the  Dream. 

4 '  For  the  beautiful  city,  and  for  the  smooth, 
white  high-road  leading  to  it, ' '  said  Marjorie. 

' '  Thankful  to  whom  ? ' '  said  the  Dream. 

' '  Thankful  to  the  king  who  built  the  city ;  and 
to  the  great,  good  man  who  built  the  road;  and 
to  the  loving  woman  who  showed  me  the  way. ' ' 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  thankful  to 
the  woman,"  said  the  Dream.  "The  city  and 
the  road  were  here  all  the  time.  She  didn't 
build  either  of  them.  I  think  that  it  shows  lack 
of  respect  to  the  king  and  to  the  great  man, 
who  both  did  such  wonderful  things,  to  speak 
of  the  woman  in  the  same  breath. ' ' 


30  On  the  Way  There 

"Why,  I  don't  think  so  at  all!"  exclaimed 
Marjorie,  earnestly.  "Of  course,  the  woman 
didn't  do  anything  nearly  so  big  as  to  build  the 
city  or  the  high-road,  and  I'm  not  pretending 
that  she  did,  or  that  she  could;  but  she  searched 
and  searched  until  she  found  the  road,  when  it 
was  lost;  and  she  showed  me,  and  all  the  rest 
of  us,  the  way,  and  helped  us  up  here  out  of  the 
swamp;  and  she's  just  working  and  helping  all 
the  time,  and  I  think  I'd  be  pretty  ungrateful 
if  I  couldn't  say  '  thank  you '  for  it.  Of  course 
what  the  king  did,  and  what  the  good  man  did, 
are  so  great  that  I  haven't  any  words  to  tell  how 
wonderful  they  seem  to  me,  and  how  grateful 
I  am  for  them;  but,  even  then,  I'm  sure  that  I 
have  a  right  to  say  'thank  you'  to  the  dear, 
loving  woman  who  showed  me  the  way, ' '  and 
Marjorie,  strong  in  her  sense  of  justice,  stood  up 
bravely  to  meet  any  objection  which  might 
come  from  the  Dream. 

But  the  Dream  was  gone. 


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